Five things we've learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

(No) Curtains for Ida

We waved a not so fond farewell to poor Baldwin's Casuals troublemaker Ida Clough this week. Ida was a semi-regular for a decade but was restricted to factory-based stories and generally only popped in to cause bother. Often found in the sewing room or a booth at the Rovers, she had a face liked a squashed barmcake and was rarely seen without her equally unappetising colleagues, Ivy and Vera. I actually felt a bit sorry for Ida as she remained on the second rung of Corrie staples for ten years, perched uncomfortably beside the likes of Sam Tindall. While Ivy and Vera graduated from small part players to actually owning homes on the Street, complete with families, Ida was tabard bound for all those years with only brief visits from her caridgan-wearing dope of a son Bernard and her disgusting gob on a stick daughter, Muriel.

Muriel Clough was a three part harmony of Renee Roberts, Amy Burton and Olive from On The Buses. Surprisingly, she didn't last long. The early part of the week was dominated by a dreary story at the faktry which saw Baldwin shift production from denim flares (well it was nearly the 90s) to curtains. This caused an incredible amount of friction with thick, unpleasant mouth mountain Vera apoplectic with rage. Vera really was quite horrible back in the day and is far removed from the softer granny persona we came to know and love later on. Anyway, Ida shot her mouth off once too often so Mike very swiftly gave her the boot. Never fear though, she would return later in the year for Ivy's wedding to Don. I know you're as excited for that festival of polyester as I am.

Broken Britain

 

Curly Watts, who has been at something of a loose end since Terry Duckworth took off with that Polish prostitute from Brookside, found himself in the role of Weatherfield's moral compass this week. While Kev and Sal ran into bother with their mortgage application thanks to an unpaid debt and Martin Platt was paid under the Rovers bar for renovating Number 13 whilst claiming benefits, Curly was a picture of honesty and decency, calling them all out. Well fair enough, Sally quickly bought him off, not once, but twice with half-inched Walnut Whips from Alf's serving hatch. I really liked Curly's young man with an old soul. 

In the kind of storyline they just don't feature anymore, Curly had recently taken steps to better himself. Enrolling at Weatherfield Tech on a business degree, his intentions were excellent even if this positivity would soon lead to an extended spell working with Ken Morley in a disused branch of Prestos. Yes binman Curly had come a long way. And things were about to get a lot more interesting as young machinist Shirley Armitage had taken a fancy to him too. This week saw Curly escort Shirley to the pictures to see Nightmare On Elm Street III. Oh the glamour. Thankfully we were spared the details of what Shirley did to steam up Curly's specs in the back row at the Roxy.

Thanks a bunch, Pauline!

 

This week saw Sarah-Lou's first birthday party! So of course Gail had to throw a vibrant party full of love, cheer and caterpillar cake. Well actually what Sarah got was a homemade sponge, a bag of cheesy puffs and three bottles of cheap plonk from Alf's in the company of Phyllis, Don, Ivy and Gail's mate Pauline. All this in the drab setting of the Tilsley living room at Hammond Road. Of course the whole thing was really just an excuse for Brian to pop the question and ask Gail to marry him once again. Gail being Gail, she flew into a strop, look heaven-ward a great deal and fluttered her eyelashes endlessly. Brian reacted in typical house brick fashion. 

Later, Pauline was back full of anticipation at the thought of extra lolly for filming some wedding scenes. She couldn't understand Gail's reticence and pretty much frogmarched her down the aisle with the threat that if she turned him down, Brian would become a weekend dad to her kids. I was wrong-footed by Pauline's delivery of this line as it seemed to suggest that would be a bad thing. Gail, all tracksuit and scrunchie, feared this decision would mean a lifetime of being Mrs Brian Tilsley. I wouldn't worry, cock. I really wouldn't worry...

 

Mavis Riley, Gold Digger

 

In a slightly bizarre story strand, which may or may not have been pointless padding, Mavis and Rita took on a geriatric paperboy this week. Our Reet was forever being rushed off her feet despite the fact that the Kabin was only ever visited by Percy Sugden and Gail looking for change. Anyway new papergrandad Harry Ashton was taken on and soon caused a right kerfuffle with the very best Sylvia Young's theatre school had to offer in Wayne Pickles and the gloriously named Priscilla Millbanks (played by future Brookside lesbian nanny Nicola Stephenson). When the shell-suited brats threatened to strike Mavis donned her best pussy bow blouse and released her inner Iron Lady over tea and iced buns to set them straight.

I quite liked the character of Harry (played by Keith Marsh, who once upon a time had starred in the Sid James sitcom George and the Dragon - just call me a televisual saddo). Harry relished the job and enjoyed getting his Jimmy out first thing in the morning. Stop it now, that's his dog. After treating Mave to a posh tea at the steakhouse in the precinct, Miss Riley received a visit from Harry's sister, who whilst thumbing through a copy of Vogue, accused Mavis of being after Harry's cash! I always knew she was a fast cat on the quiet. I almost wish Mavis and stuck with Harry as he was a damn sight less irritating that Demon Derek.

Souk it up, Alec

 

Bet Gilroy started the week treating Alec's tastebuds to a ready meal moussaka from Alf's. In typical earthy fashion, Bet enquired about the product by asking young Sally "ay up cock, what's this muuuuusaka when it's arrr 'ome?" At least it's an improvement on that cock up au vin she fed him the other week. Having settled into married life well enough, Bet was rightly peeved at Alec's reluctance to whisk her off on a honeymoon. The best part of two episodes were spent following Bet follow Alec round the Rovers like Judith Chalmers on heat (what's new you ask?) Eventually Bet gave up and announced she'd booked ten days in Morocco with fellow landlady Stella Rigby.

Alec was horrified. Apparently La Rigby had a reputation for having a go at anything in trousers so let's hope Bet left her slacks at home. I wish we'd seen more of Stella of the White Swan. Bet and Stella were worthy successors to the lady vics rivalry of Annie Walker and Nellie Harvey from many years earlier. Camp, backcombed and shoulder pads-a-plenty, they injected some much needed 80s glamour into a Weatherfield world of loose perms, tabards and bacon slicers. And there was definitely a spin off to be made of Bet's jaunt to the souks of Marrakesh with our Stella.

Sadly there's no time to pull apart Don and Ivy's bizarre market stall exploits with a load of exercise wheels. I'm sure you'll be heartbroken. And for fans of Fanny, get in quick. Only four episodes left before Amy Burton, the tinned salmon pinching, hat with teeth is hoofed out of Weatherfield in the boot of Vera's Nova.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter @GraemeN82 if you fancy a natter...

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Five Things we Learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

 

Weatherfield's very own Fanny

Cradock that is. Bet, taking offence at some less than flattering comments from an unknowing Mavis in the Corner Shop, set out to prove that she was capable of becoming the world's best housewife. Alec was appalled at the thought of Bet ditching her gleaming pumps for a life of pinny-clad servitude even if she does "grill a decent chop". Mrs Gilroy wasn't listening though as she sent off a convoluted shopping list to Alf's (she even bought some of Sally's garlic croutons, proving our Sal was always a bit above herself). Bet spent the morning on her table setting, struggling to make swans out of napkins and burning her toast corners. 

Sadly, all Bet's guests dropped out and Emily and Mavis (or Hinge and Bracket as Alec had nicknamed them earlier in the week) were forced to endure Bet's lumpy casserole and flacid meringue. Our Rovers landlady definitely put the cock in coq au vin. The Gilroy pair sitting round the dinner table with Mave and the Bish was a delicious comedy of errors and Thelma Barlow shone as the twittery Mavis, suffering from endless coq in mouth syndrome as Bet's facade crumbled. Julie Goodyear and Roy Barraclough brought such vim and vigour to the Rovers Return and they are a constant, comedic joy. There was real heart and love in their relationship and that balanced out the comedy oh so nicely.

French Farce

 

I guess we forget in these modern cosmopolitan days that not so long ago French France seemed a million miles away. In those far off, pre-Brexit days, people didn't just swan off to la belle France at the drop of a beret. Unless you're Jenny flamin' Bradley that is. Good lord but she's an irritating little ginger madam. Taking advantage of innocent young Martin Platt once more (after trapping him upside down in Reet's Fiesta not so long ago) Jen conned herself a ride to a life of sunburn and soggy grapes in the south of France. Selfish little feather-headed Bradley didn't return with Martin though, after swanning off with some French piece by the name of Patrice Podevin. Cue as many dubious French stereotypical references as you could shake an 'Allo 'Allo shaped stick at. I was waiting for Alan Bradders to drop in a mention of the fallen Madonna with the big boobies.

Jenny eventually drifted back to Rita and Alan, who had spent the week beside themselves; Alan threatening to thump anything with male genitalia and Rita sniping at Mavis as if she'd just caused a Weatherfield aniseed ball shortage. PATrice (as Jenny kept addressing him) soon charmed Alan and Reet with cheap wine and some form of worryingly described lace frillies. I just hope the wine was for Alan. Jenny spent the rest of the week's episodes prancing around the street, ring first, shoving it under everyone's nose. We all know it ain't going to end well, after all PATrice has already endured bed and breakfast at the Rovers at £20 a night. I can only hope he wasn't offered the leftovers from Bet's beanfeast for brekkie. 


Glossop calling Susan

 

Mike Baldwin was over the moon this week, resplendent in a rather dashing grey pleather sports jacket. What's not to love? After weeks of Susan slumping herself through those kitchen swing doors at St Mary's Place, she finally confirmed she was pregnant with MVB's baby. Scottish wines and cigars all round! Except poor little bitch girl Sue isn't exactly over the moon at the thought of being (as someone delightfully put it) "up the stick" with the fruit of Mike's loins. Shudder. Susan keeps bleating on about having a life, having a career before settling down to motherhood. To be honest, even if she was a decent actress, that would be as much a possibility as Jack Duckworth managing to clean his own chimney without getting soot in Vera's bottom denture.

There was a glimmer of hope for 1987 viewers when Mike whisked Susan away to a remote farmhouse in Glossop - the ideal place to bring up a family. And the best place for Susan, away from those pesky Granada camera and acting stuff. Fear not, this dreary little tale will soon be at an end as Sue hops off back to Newcastle in her bought and paid for Austin Metro, boot rammed with man-made fibres. Bill Podmore's decision to dispense with the services of Susan Baldwin could not come a moment too soon. Sadly, we'd have to wait a few more years before she'd return one last time, complete with a head transplant and a secret son, before she'd be axed forever at the hands of Billy Gurny Gums. But, hey, I'm straying into Oates territory here so I'll stop.

The Germaine Greer of the Gazette

 

Ken Barlow was once again delivering in spades this week. Despite the fact he's endured on our screens for nigh on sixty years and that he's got a head of hair a man half his age would kill for, we are often remiss in recalling just what a big-headed, ego-centric, pompous old windbag Kenneth is. After pushing poor old Alf into heart attack territory (therefore denying Audrey her oats for the month of May) Ken shoehorned Deirdre through a dodgy demi-wave and a move to even bigger bins and into the council. Ken managed to be a proud husband for all of five minutes until Deirdre started to develop a brain away from the potato peeler and the tumble dryer and actually started to enjoy council work. 

Ken's outdated, Victorian, patriarchal attitudes led me, in a moment of madness, to label him a bell**d on Twitter this week and for that I will never apologise. Deirdre, sick of Ken's moaning, trotted off to Bournemouth with Alf Ventress from Heartbeat for a week on waste disposal. Yes Ken, your wife would rather talk turds in the conference suite of a Ramada Inn than spend time with you. Stick that in your Gazette and choke on it. 

Sally's Supermarket Sweep

 

Finally this week, I must mention dear little Sally Webster, already exhibiting signs of the social climbing snob we all know and love today. Cosy in her new job working with Alf at the mini market, Sally is a bright ray of sunshine, energetically trying to flog the aforementioned garlic croutons to Emily Bishop, spreading gossip with Audrey and moaning about Kevin's lack of get up and go. Just you wait, luvey. What I did notice though on several occasions was Sal's inability to work the till, add up and deliver her lines all at once. Now Renee Roberts might have been a bit dull and more suited to anything starring Hylda Baker (one for the teenagers there) and Maggie Clegg might have legged it to Zaire in the middle of pricing up the tinned pears but at least they could operate a till a good deal less vicious that Arkright's. It seemed that everything anyone ever bought always amounted to 38p. I guess when you've got young Kevin's be-jeaned buttocks pressed up against the dairy counter, your coordination is bound to go right out the window.

And I leave you with my pic of the week - Bet had popped in to the Corner Shop for a packet of Alec's favourite beef burgers and picked up more than she bargained for from Mavis Riley. If looks could kill...

Until next time...

I'm on Twitter @GraemeN82 if you fancy a natter.

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Five Things we've learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

I was overjoyed when the announcement came that ITV3 would start re-running classic episodes of Coronation Street. To begin with, I was disappointed the network wasn't going to show episodes from earlier on - I believe the mid 1970s to early 80s to be the golden age for the show - however I can now see the benefits in starting in 1986. The episodes broadcast this week are modern enough to feature a vast number of characters viewers today will still be aware of, either because they are still regularly on our screens or because their time has only recently been and gone.

Coronation Street in 1986 featured regular characters who stlll appear today - Ken, Rita, Jenny, Audrey, Gail, Sally and Kevin. The likes of Deirdre, Emily, Jack and Vera, Betty and Hilda are still very much in our consciousness too. Early '86 also began some long running stories, introducing Sally Seddon to enliven Kevin's life for many years to come and most of all, the start of the three year Alan Bradley saga. 

I have been tasked with cobbling together a blog on five things we've learned from this week in the life of Classic Coronation Street on ITV3.This past week saw Alec Gilroy back, circling Bet Lynch like a fat, bald vulture. Meanwhile Emily and Curly nearly came to blows over his big telescope (saucebox!) and Gail showed Brian how empowered she was by wallpapering her front room and going to the pictures with Pauline.

Dabbling with Derek

I think Derek's after more than a sherbet dibdab

This past week has brought some brilliant classic Corrie comedy from the superb Thelma Barlow as Mavis. Derek was back in her life, married to Angela and working for her father. He was as wet and snivelling as always but Peter Baldwin put in some great work. I think having watched these episodes I can see why he was a guest character for so long. Too much of him and you can't help wishing a nasty accident should befall him. The farce concerned boxes of stationery ordered by Derek as a cover story so he could meet with Mave behind Angela's back. To be honest I shouldn't have thought Ange would care as she mainly seemed to be down the golf club. 

The boxes went back and forth from the Kabin to Derek's car and finally Rita snapped and took them back to Hawthorne's. What saved this story from being incredibly irritating were the gorgeous performances from Barbara Knox and Thelma Barlow. A joyous chalk and cheese double act which was funny, fierce, dithery and always full of love and care. As Mavis tied herself and her dowdy tabards into endless knots over her faithful infidelity (they didn't even manage afters in the restaurant), it gave Dame Knox the opportunity to get her double takes out for a good airing. Classic stuff.

Gloria's trick with a tea towel

Glamorous Glo

It became startling obvious this week that Sue Jenkins the actress was with child. Gloria's day-glo wardrobe of bright shirts, Wilma Flinstone jewelry and side-ponytail were all present and correct, she just seemed bigger. One lovely yellow number resembled a paddling pool before inflation. Jenkins' pregnancy was easily covered up by a constantly levitating tea towel held in front of the bump whenever she appeared without the bar top nearby. Such sophistication. I'm sure it fooled many a viewer at the time but not me, oh no. For I had read ahead and discovered that within a matter of episodes a half brother she never knew she had would suddenly appear and whisk our Glo away from her depressing Don't Look Back In Anger bedsit to see her ailing mother in Canada. 

The Joys of the Parks and Cemeteries 

Alf can't believe she won sporting that perm

In a throwaway line this week Audrey was moaning to Gail that she was at a loose end due to Alfeh's council commitments. Apparently he was off to an evening meeting of the Parks and Cemeteries Committee to decide on some new flagstones. Why do I mention this humdrum detail from the life of Weatherfield's tubby greengrocer? Because it's the little things again. I love the civic business that went on back in the day. It gave the sense of a wider community and made it all feel real, domestic and believable. And Bryan Mosley was a superb actor, he just was that rotund greengrocer in his white coat, bustling about, getting stressed and doting on Audrey. 

The little details of ordinary Weatherfield life don't really get a look in nowadays and you don't feel, watching in 2017, that the community of Weatherfield exists beyond Victoria Court. It's sad as there was so much rich material for the writers to mine back in the old days. Local councils full of intrigue, gossip and goings on at the Community Centre and the memorable mysterious doings of the Square Dealers. We're lucky these days if we get a passing mention of Weatherfield County, hotpot or Newton and Ridley.

A Cheap Return to Chesterfield

Trevor Ogden, looking like a rancid extra from The Sweeney

Hilda's offspring got a rare mention last week. To begin with, back in the sixties, the Ogden's had four children but apparently two were in care. The only ones the viewers ever met were Irma, who married David Barlow (Ken's dead brother, never mentioned) and Trevor, who was a cut-price Baldwin if ever there was one. Trevor looked down on his parents and they didn't even get a chance to look up to him as he was never around. He lived in Chesterfield with his posher wife Polly (briefly seen, played by Mary Tamm in 1973) and together they had children Damian and Jayne.

Hilda begged Bet for some time off so she could go and stay with Trevor's lot this week and it was painful to watch. What started out as a bit of respite for poor Hilda turned out to be unpaid skivvying for Trevor while him and Pol were off on the Costa del Sol. Downtrodden Hilda was always easy to feel sorry for and to love. She never had much which meant where there were brief moments of simple joy in her life, it was always heartwarming stuff, safe in the hands of the glorious Jean Alexander. This reminder of Hilda's family made me ponder why they've never been re-introduced into modern Weatherfield. Wouldn't it be great to have the Ogden name back in town? I'm sure Trevor and Polly could be recast or perhaps one of Hilda's grandchildren could pop by for a visit? Hilda is still waiting for a fond farewell on screen following Jean's death.

Terry Duckworth: Content Advisory

I couldn't find a pic of Terry in his pants so here's another people pleaser from '86

If the Kevin and Sally wedding episode had aired in the age of Twitter, Terry Duckworth's powder blue briefs would have had their own hashtag. In fact, I'm sure if you paused your digibox you'd get a glimpse of his little hashtag anyway. Terry's pantage caused quite a flurry in certain quarters this week and I'm sure some viewers never made it to the end of the episode. For those that missed it I can confirm that Kevin and Sal did get wed, quite simply at the Register Office, without anything catching on fire, breaking down, falling off the viaduct or getting drunk on the faktry gantry. 

Anyway, back to Tel's knick-knacks. I have no real clue as to why that scene was written in or why Nigel Pivaro had to crouch so provocatively under Vera's kitchen table while Kev was chowing down on his breakfast sausage, but it certainly woke me up. Thankfully though, for viewers of a delicate disposition, the only bangers we saw were severely burnt in Vee's rather unsanitary looking frying pan. Still, in the days before rent-a-hunks turned up ten a penny to strip to the waist to give Audrey's Mazda a buff at Webster's Autos, Terry Duckegg was the best option going...

Until next week!

Classic Coronation Street is broadcast on ITV3 every week day at 14.40 and 15.15, repeated from 6am the next day.

You can follow me on Twitter @GraemeN82

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